The Umbrella University
by LastFebruary
Summary: Seven gifted children are adopted by billionaire archaeologist Professor Hershel Layton, who creates the Umbrella University and prepares his "children" to save the world. In their teenage years, though, the family fractures and the team disbands. Fast forward to the present time, when the six surviving members of the clan reunite upon the news of Layton's passing.


Chapter One: Best Five Out Of Seven

October 1, 1989, forty-three women all around the world gave birth. This wouldn't have been unusual, had it not been for the fact that not a single one of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. An eccentric billionaire in a top hat, who was known everywhere as a former professor at an esteemed university in London, attempted to find and adopt them all.

With the help of his estranged brother, a man just as eccentric, if not more eccentric, than Professor Hershel Layton himself, he traveled in an airship to find the mysterious children. He had hoped to collect them all and bring them back to an empty dormitory on Gressenheller's campus where he had forty-three rooms prepared. After weeks of traveling and searching and researching, he returned to London. He had tried to retrieve all forty-three.

He got seven of them.

Layton raised them, trained them, helped them develop their own abilities. And now, nearly thirty years later, only five remain.

Number One (Luke) had been sent to the moon several years ago. He liked to consider himself the strongest out of the seven, though his brothers thought otherwise. His body had been left horrifically deformed after one of his missions. He had been the only member of the team, then. Layton was able to revive him, but at a terrible cost. Luke was fortunate to live in solitude, where no one could see him.

Number Two (Alfendi) had entered law enforcement. He, with his duel personalities, aimed his temper and his knife-throwing talents at criminals, as he found the law incredibly important. Though he didn't work at the police station, as the other officers found him insufferable and insolent, he worked relentlessly to protect the innocent citizens of London. His ex-girlfriend, Detective Lucy Baker, found him ridiculous and occasionally, helpful.

Number Three (Arianna) rose to fame. She was known as the calamity witch in pop-culture for her bewitching personality and for her ability of bending reality to her own desires. She had gotten everything she had ever wanted; a loving husband, a child, and then it had all come crashing down when she altered reality. She got what she wanted and she was forced to pay the price.

Number Four (Crow) had never found success. The Layton housekeeper, Rosa, believed that he had started doing drugs in his teens, to numb the voices of the dead that filled his head. He moved in and out of rehabilitation centers, though he had no intention of ever getting sober. Alfendi picked him up off the street every so often.

Number Seven (Flora) was ordinary. She had always been ordinary and estranged from the rest of her siblings. Her father had always insisted she was not a true member of their team and by the time she was a young adult, she believed it. To distract herself from how ordinary she was, she learned to play the violin. And it was the only solace she had ever found.

And they are all brought together when their father passes away.

Flora heard about his death on the radio. When the muffled, staticky voice echoed in her tiny apartment, she nearly lost her breath. She wasn't sad or even remotely upset about his death, but she couldn't remember the last time she had been home or seen any of her siblings. A while ago, she had written a book about her life as Number Seven and though it had been as popular as she had been lonely, it still hadn't made her happy. In fact, it had strained pretty much every relationship she had in her family. Not even the housekeeper had kept in touch with her.

As she threw on a jacket and gathered a small bag, she hoped that she wasn't too late for whatever ceremony Luke was going to plan for him. Her drive to the university wasn't far, as she still lived in London. She wondered what going home was going to be like. The barren hallways and bedrooms and memories. Their android mother, Dahlia, would surely be excited to see her. Her robotic mind had been failing the last time she had been home, maybe ten years ago?

Flora was dropped off at the front gate. Her fingerprint scanned her in and she sucked in a breath to prepare herself for what was likely going to be one of the most difficult evenings of her life.

Flora stepped into the university. Her hands were folded tightly in front of her body as she pressed through the halls. Flora saw Dahlia sitting in the living room. Her quiet, robotic nature hadn't become fully-fledged until Flora was already out of the house. Now, Dahlia's silence was quite unsettling. As Flora called her name and received no response. Not even a slight movement. She had grown less and less human each day.

Alfendi saw her first. He wore his typical police academy uniform, despite him not actually becoming a policee officer. His dark red hair hung so heavily in front of his eyes, she feared that he would walk right past her. Another, more terrifying fear, however, was realized when he in fact did notice her and met her with the most petrifying scowl.

"Why're you here?" He spat at her. The yellow of his eyes was most piercing.

"Hi Alfendi," she sighed as she pushed past him, "Which Al are we going to see today?"

"Take a guess, traitor," he shook his head.

"Watch it, Alfendi," Arianna's smooth voice spoke behind him. She descended from the stairs, her strawberry blonde hair perfectly curled. A bright, evergreen dress swooped around her long pale legs as she approached them. "I'm happy to see you, Flora," she said, reaching out her arms.

"Thank you," Flora swallowed and nodded awkwardly, "It's good to see you too." For a moment, she almost avoided their embrace altogether. Eventually she caved, wrapping her arms weakly around Arianna's midriff.

"Here to gather material for your sequel?" Alfendi asked her as they separated.

"Jesus, Alfendi, it's a funeral," Arianna muttered.

"At least I'm wearing black," he looked at her green dress and strutted out of the room, his hands shoved into his pockets

"He's probably right," Flora shook her head, turning toward the door. "I should-"

"No," Arianna reached to take her hand, "No, I'm happy you came." They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before heading into the sitting room where their mother sat perched, absolutely motionless.

On the other side of the house, Luke examined every inch of his father's bedroom. His large size and awkward dimensions made it difficult for him to move around effectively, but he took diligent notes and tried his best to understand the crime scene. He examined the windows and the walls and doors, as if Layton's death was a puzzle he had to solve. He noticed one thing for sure and certain: the infamous top hat was missing.

"I can save you some time," Alfendi leaned on the side of the door frame, "There was no sign of struggle or forced entry or damage to anything in this room-"

"Did you pass your police academy exam, finally?" Luke snapped at him.

"No, I…" Alfendi walked inside the room. In the light, he saw the width of Luke's shoulders. The circumference of his biceps. "Damn, you got big Luke. What happened in space? Eat too many powdered chicken dinners?"

"What do you want?" Luke asked. Alfendi signed and dug into the papers sprouting out of his pockets.

"Baker got me the autopsy report." He pulled out a slip of crumbled paper and handed it to Luke. "And, shocker, Dad's death was completely normal. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Heart failure?" Luke said with almost a disappointed tone.

"I mean, he didn't have a heart, so-"

"Alfendi-"

"What I want to know," Al stood and approached him, "is, why you're here? In his room?"

"I talked to Rosa," Luke said as he handed the paper back, "She couldn't find his hat."

"Who cares?"

"Who cares?" Luke nearly laughed in his face, "That was his most prized possession?"

"And I'll ask again," Alfendi shrugged, "Who cares?"

"Tell me one time where he wasn't wearing it." Luke said. "Oh right, you can't. Which means someone took it."

"Luke, he died of heart failure." Alfendi said, "All alone, in his big house. Just like he deserved."

"You should go." Luke shook his head, "You've never respected him." Alfendi shrugged again.

"I give respect when people earn it." He told him, "You should try it sometime, gorilla." He patted him on his thick biceps and went out of the room. Luke took one more look around, hoping to find a glimpse of the famous top hat.

While Arianna left to go find the others, Flora took a stroll around the living room. She glanced at pictures and paintings and walls filled with books and decorations. She found a copy of her autobiography, but was certain that the famous Professor Hershel Layton had never opened it.

"Flora, dear," a soft voice spoke behind her.

"Rosa?" Flora turned to see their housekeeper standing on the other side of the room. "It's good to see you." Rosa held the girl's face, looking at it intently.

"I'm so happy you came home," she whispered. "It is so good to see you here, your father would be so happy to see you."

"Yeah," Flora sighed, "I'm sure he would."

Mounted on the main wall was a painting of Number Five, Flora's brother who had run away from home at the age of thirteen and had never returned. They gazed up at his face for a moment.

"How long as it been?" She whispered to Rosa.

"Sixteen years, four months, and fourteen days," Rosa replied, "Your father made me keep track. He always hoped Five would come home."

"So did I," Flora smiled, "I used to make those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches for him and leave them outside his door in case he was hungry when he came back. He always said that those sandwiches were the only thing I could cook without destroying the kitchen."

"Oh, I remember," Rosa laughed, "I cleaned up your disastrous recipes quite often." They both sighed at the memory, "Your father always believed that he was still out there. That he would come home."

"Yeah," Flora said somberly, "So did I."

Upstairs, Arianna heard a scuffling in her father's office. She swung the door open to see the same mahogany desk, leather chair, and expressionless portrait that she had seen every time she had tried to talk to her father about something. The room filled her with dread. She was reminded of how many cold, depressing conversations, or lack of them, her childhood had consisted of.

"Where's the cash?" She heard someone murmur from behind the desk. She took a step toward it, the scuffling growing louder.

"Crow?" She asked. A dark head rose from behind the desk and looked around the room nervously before making eye contact with her.

"Arianna!" Crow stood and approached her, "Oh my goodness, long time, long time. I, wow, I am just so happy to see you, I was hoping to see you, you know-"  
"Were you?" Arianna shook her head at him.

"I wanted to get your autograph, the very calamity witch, herself! Add it to my collection!" He smirked as he adjusted his scarf to one side. Arianna took one of his hands and gazed at it curiously. A medical bracelet hung limply on his thin wrist.

"Just out of rehab, I see."

"No, no. No, no, no, no," Crow shook his head, "I'm done with that, really, I am!"

"Why're you down here, Crow?"

"Well," he sucked in a breath, "I _really_ came down here to prove that the old man was _really_ gone! And he is, he's _really_ dead! Yay!" He clapped and plopped himself down in the chair, "And you know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because if that old bastard was still alive, we would not be allowed to set foot in this room. He was always in here, plotting his next torment, right? Remember how he used to look at us? With those cold, beady little eyes, staring deep into our very souls."

"Get out of his chair," Luke stood in the doorway, his massive shoulders nearly filling out the door frame.

"Oh wow! You've really skipped leg day this time buddy-"

"Crow-"

"Nope, save the lecture, I'm on my way out already." Crow hopped out of the chair and began to scamper out of the room.

"Wait a second," Luke stopped him, "Empty your pockets."

"Luke," Crow cocked his head, "Come on, now-"  
"Empty them," he said. Crow groaned and began to take out the paperweights, jewelry, and other miscellaneous artifacts out of his coat.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, Lukey." Crow left the items on the floor as he stepped out of the office. Unbeknownst to Arianna and Luke, he had stuffed a box in the back of his pants and he was able to get past them without a second thought.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Luke said quietly to Arianna after Crow had gone.

"Me neither,"

"You look-you look good," Luke told her.

"Thank you," she smiled at him.

"So where's Umid and Evan-"

"We divorced," she said bluntly, "About eight months ago." They were both silent, "But you were up there." She cocked her head.

"Yeah," Luke breathed, "I'm sorry I didn't, I had no idea-"

"It's okay," Arianna smiled at him.

"What about Evan?"

"Umid got custody," Arianna looked away, almost embarrassed.

"Arianna, I'm so sorry," Luke whispered. They were quiet again. "I mean, you could always do your witch thing, you know-"

"I don't do that anymore," she shook her head.

"Why?" Luke asked, shocked, "What happened?"

"Same thing as always," Arianna sighed, "I made a wish, it came true, and I couldn't take it back."

Once the remaining five met up in the living room, they all made themselves a drink and sat on the sofas. Five's portrait hung above them and the crackling fire place, keeping them warm.

"Okay," Luke stood, his drink of choice, an ice water. "We should probably get this started." No one looked directly at him, "I figured we could have a memorial service, outside in the garden, near Dad's favorite spot."

"Dad had a favorite spot?" Arianna inquired.

"Yeah," Luke said, almost baffled, "Under the oak tree." He looked around at all of them, "We used to sit out there all the time, did none of you ever do that?"

"Will this memorial service provide refreshments?" Crow asked as he lit a cigarette.

"Absolutely not," Luke scoffed. "And put that out, you know Dad did allow smoking in here."

"Okay, Lukey-Poo," Crow mumbled as he stumbled around the room.

"Enough," Luke said forcefully, "We need to talk about something important."

"Like what?" Alfendi asked.

"Hm, I don't know, like the way he died?"

"Here we go," Alfendi muttered.

"I don't understand," Flora said, "I thought they said he had a heart attack? Heart failure?"

"Yeah, well according to the coroner."

"Wouldn't the coroner know?"

"Theoretically," Luke sighed.

"Theoretically?" Arianna asked.

"I'm just saying," Luke attempted to defend himself, "Something had to have happened. I mean, his hat is missing. That means something, doesn't it? And the last time I talked to him, he sounded strange."

"What a _surprise_!" Crow said as he took a large gulp of whatever alcohol he had prepared for himself.

"What do you mean strange, Luke?"  
"I don't know, he sounded on edge, told me to be careful who I trust. That sort of thing."

"He was paranoid-" Alfendi began.

"And not very well liked," Crow added.

"Look," Luke turned to Crow, "I know you don't like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad." Crow looked over at Arianna and Flora and then back at him.

"I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like 'Hey Dad, can you stop playing tennis with Bill Hawks for a second and take a quick call?'"

"What do you mean? That's literally your thing."

"I'm _not_ in the right state of mind!"

"You're high?" Arianna asked.

"Yeah! Obviously! I mean how are you not, listening to this shit."

"It's time to sober up, this is important," Luke told them. "Besides everything else, his hat is missing."

"Who cares about a stupid hat?"

"Exactly, Alfendi," Luke turned to him, "If it's worthless, why would someone take it?" No one had an answer for that. They all stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "It must've been personal. Someone who is holding a grudge-"

"Where are you going with this, Luke?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Alfendi snapped, "He thinks one of us killed him." Luke opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"You do!" Crow shook his head.

"How could you think that?" Flora whispered to him. "Why would we do that?"

"That's not what I'm saying-"  
"Whatever, Luke," Crow stood and knocked the rest of his drink back, "You're crazy."

"That's not what I was saying-"  
"Be right back, gonna go murder Dahlia, super fast," Crow said to him.

"Crow," Luke shook his head. One by one they all filed out of the living room, leaving Luke standing there alone. "That went well."


End file.
